After Zero's Second to Last Hole
by grab bag
Summary: What happened to Zero, his thoughts, and how he found the boat after leaving Camp Green Lake. Songfic to Creed's "One Last Breath."


All Holes concepts belong to Louis Sachar. "One Last Breath" belongs to Creed. 

* * *

_Please come now, I think I'm falling, Holding on to all I think is safe_

Hector Zeroni was stumbling through the desert. Blinded by the sand whipping about his face and hot dusty air blowing his hair in his eyes, he could hardly see where he was going, and therefore tripped on the occasional stray rock or dirt clod. He gripped his shovel tightly, and with every step it weighed more and more. Still, he didn't leave it behind, and still he pressed on.

_It seems I've found the road to nowhere, And I'm trying to escape_

Zero didn't know how long he'd been walking, or where he was going. All he knew right now was that he was heading away from Camp Greenlake, and that was all that mattered. He had thought of heading towards the mountains he had seen in the distance, but he could tell after only 15 minutes of walking that there was no way he would make it alone. He was on a road with a start, but so far as he could tell, no end.

_I yelled back when I heard thunder, But I'm down to one last breath_

Why had he left? Why didn't he turn around? Zero's thoughts ran frantically now. He shouldn't have left! Why? Why?!  
The reasonable voice in the back of his head told him all he needed to hear- because you hate digging. You hate captivity. You couldn't stand their stupid questions. Couldn't stand watching Stanley get in trouble when it was your fault. Because if you DO survive somehow, you want to find your mom.  
That's why.  
Zero heard a rumble of thunder coming from the mountains he couldn't see, even though he knew it was there. If only he could reach it...

But it was impossible.

_And with it let me say, let me say- Hold me now, I'm six feet from the edge and I'm thinking _

_Maybe six feet ain't so far down_

Plodding wearily, Zero didn't know how much longer he could continue like this. If visibility was a problem before, now his added exhaustion was making it even worse. If only he could rest for a minute... But to rest now, to stop if only for a minute, was death.  
Because Zero knew that once he stopped, once he sat down, he couldn't trust himself to get up. He wouldn't start again. Like a wind-up toy with no spring left in it. He would have fallen and couldn't...no, no- WOULDN'T get up.  
He wouldn't get up again. Not ever.

_I'm looking down, now that it's over, Reflecting on all of my mistakes_

Funny things happen to you when you're out in the sun. You start to hallucinate. The most trivial things he had ever said or done were popping up in Zero's head. Any embarrassing action, any foolish comment, any person who had ever made him feel bad about himself was harassing his memory. The mirages of water created by rising heat were looking more and more real now. For a moment, the swirling dust skipping over the ground had the appearance of rippling waves. And for one fleeting instant, the breeze had a smell of more than dirt. It was this spicy, tangy odor that caught Zero's attention. It brought up memories Zero hardly knew he had, and it took him a moment to realize what it was, this scent that could remind him of green plants in the middle of such a barren wasteland.

Onions. It was the smell of onions.

_I though I'd found the road to somewhere, Somewhere in His grace_

It was this light, instantaneous scent that made Zero turn his head ever so slightly to the right. No more than fifty yards away was a dark object. He didn't know what it was, but if it was dark, there had to be something casting shadows. And if he was going to...to die out here...it might as well in the shadows and out of this damned sun.

_I cried out, "Heaven save me," But I'm down to one last breath_

Zero was now staggering towards the dark object when his nose caught a different smell. This smelled more like...well, peaches. It was nice. Comforting. It was easier to move with this smell to lead him. Where it came from, how it got there was unimportant to Zero right now. He was faltering with every step and needed it to keep going towards the shadow.

_And with it let me say, let me say- Hold me now, I'm six feet from the edge and I'm thinking Maybe six feet ain't so far down_

Of course, it didn't matter whether he died here or there. But to Zero, if he kept walking, it meant he WASN'T dead. Not yet.

_Hold me now, I'm six feet from the edge and I'm thinking Maybe six feet ain't so far down_

The rocks finally caught up with Zero's dragging feet, and he tripped, landing hard on the cracked dirt, shovel clattering aside. Groaning, he pushed himself up a few inches before he got too comfortable. Looking down, he was mesmerized by the dark lines between the cakes of dried earth. Lying here, exhausted, in the hot sun, he couldn't help but think of how much cooler it was in the shade of a hole.  
Funny how he never appreciated it before...

...No. Not yet. He was too close. Only a little further...

Struggling against every instinct to stay where he was, Zero stood up. He retrieved his shovel. Battered by the sun and buffeted by the wind- he was too close to relief, if only partial relief, enough to satisfy his curiosity.

_Sad eyes follow me But I still believe there's something left for me. So please come stay with me, _

_'Cause I still believe there's something left for you and me, For you and me, for you and me_

He was there. It was a boat. An upside-down boat. One thought ran through Zero's head.  
Shade.

_Hold me now, I'm six feet from the edge and I'm thinking Maybe six feet ain't so far down_

Zero collapsed and, dragging his shovel with him, scuttled underneath the boat. The underside was cool and shady. His hand hit something hard and cylindrical. The contents of it sloshed. Which meant they were liquid.  
Zero broke open the top of the cylinder (which turned out to be a jar). He didn't care at this point whether it was water or not, but it wouldn't really matter because his eyes were growing heavy and tired and he couldn't really see what it was anyway. He gulped it down, half-conscious. The warm, sweet liquid oozed down his parched throat, making him even sleepier. He was tired, and, for now at least, he was safe.

_Please come now, I think I'm falling, Holding on to all I think is safe_

As Zero's eyes closed, his hand relaxed around the now-empty jar of spiced peaches, and just before he slipped into a much deserved sleep, he reminded himself to check the name of the boat so he could tell Stanley, and hopefully his mother, when he saw them again.


End file.
